Is This Thing On?

Mostly I'm just surprised,

2011-02-18T16:27:00.001-08:00

That people still blog.

Hey

2011-02-18T16:22:00.000-08:00

IS this thing on? I may have some funny stuff I need to say... want to listen?

WYWW Part 2

2009-11-25T16:43:00.000-08:00

Today's instant messenger discussion touches on some serious subject matter. And of course, balls.

While You Were Working: Part 1

2009-11-18T13:25:00.000-08:00

Soooo when I had a job I often had some pretty funny IM conversations with a buddy. So funny I though I better save them just in case I needed a laugh someday. Well, I've found a way to share them with you. Please enjoy episode 1.

Ask Yourself, "Am I Living Up To My Potential"

2009-11-13T09:49:00.000-08:00

It's been forever. I feel like that other site just stole me away from you. Oh sure I was out trying to help the blah blah blah. You don't care. You just want me to come back here and fire up the nonsensical banter and wiener jokes again.

Well, lucky for us, I've had some spectacular ideas lately. And I've been writing again. Well, when I say "writing" I mean I've collected about 15 paragraphs that go together in no way, focused my introspective analysis, and enjoyed some new life experiences.

I'm not sure how Hemingway found his voice, but I'm sure if he were alive today it would involve getting blackout drunk at a local bar on 'Trivia Night' and checking his iPhone notes for inspiration in the morning.

Now on a serious note, when was the last time you screamed as loud as you can? I highly recommend it. It's as addictive as meth doughnuts. Seriously, its kinda liberating. My neighbors may not have enjoyed it at 2 am but they're all closed minded troglodytes anyway. As I rode my bike home the other night I got the urge to scream, to let out as much as I could. After the first one I couldn't stop. I just kept yelling over and over... It's something I'd never done,,, you forget you have the ability. You know, in hindsight, it felt a lot cooler than it reads.

Better Than Cats

2009-08-06T07:44:00.000-07:00

You'll laugh, you'll cry, You'll want to see it again and again.

Hey Hey Hey, Before you get all huffy I been real bus on that other blog. Doin work for a good cause.

Turtle Man

2009-06-03T08:16:00.000-07:00

Here's a video of my ol' buddy Shawn from back home.

Love you Pookie.

Growing Pains

2009-05-21T14:31:00.001-07:00

Do you ever behave in a way that makes you think you ARE growing up? No matter how much I try and fight it, slowly but surely it's happening. I think Pam is starting to win the battle. I wouldn't say I'm becoming my father or anything... but I was pretty proud of myself while cleaning up the urine that had splashed up on the bowl last night.

You think she even noticed?

Are You Smarter Than A Millionaire?

2009-04-25T23:50:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure that's where TV is headed.

The Just don't make em like Bea did anymore. R.I.P. my sweetest Dorothy.

Sorry. I know I said I was back and then just like that, I wasn't. I promise we'll get back to the future soon enough. Don't worry, I've been working on something special for y'alls.

In the meantime, let me know what you think of this video of a naked wizard being tazered at a concert. Enjoy

Naked Wizard Tased By Reality from Tracy Anderson on Vimeo.

Like Father Like Son

2009-04-13T21:21:00.000-07:00

Talk radio is ridiculous. I tuned into a show on one of the more humorous satellite networks the other day just in time to catch a bunch of fat dads calling in to complain about the wimpifiying of America. I guess little league has gotten too soft on kids. How in the hell are these washed up arm-chair quarterbacks going to live vicariously through sons without adequate competitive athletic programs? I felt a little sorry for the delusional dads (and their kids) as they explained how awesome they could have been. They wanted their boys to grow up "just like them" and "Dominate". I had no idea how many potential All-Stars there were out there. I was all set to blog about it when the conversation turned to "male enhancement"... The callers got dumber

The ensuing conversation reminded me of the time I experimented with a "little blue pill".

When My roommates and I invited a recently homeless Sick Rob to stay with us we meant for a few days. He took our offering of kindness to mean a couple of months. In the weeks he lived with us he somehow managed to parade the single largest collection of trashy women I have ever seen through our home to have loud, often very loud, sex on our couches. It was like the winter my house was invaded by Whore Island. (thanks M) Sick Rob remains the largest advocate of Viagra I have ever met. To him it is to be taken more like a daily vitamin supplement than an occasional wild monkey-sex party amplifier.

So, one night after thousands of his testimonials I decided to try it with a girl I had been seeing on and off. Lets just say I had some negative side effects. Within three minutes I had a pounding headache and a serious balance problem. These problems were small change compared to the voices in my head. I went absolutely nuts. I spent the next 30 minutes in the bathroom going back and forth from running my head under freezing water in the sink to intensely staring at myself in the mirror. The effects did not wash off.

I finally answered my guest's request to come to bed... that's when things got worse. I completely flipped out. I couldn't keep the voices in my head quiet. I think I may even have started yelling back at them. I lost it on her, told her she was a tramp, I didn't love her, and she had to leave. (I wonder if this has something to do with why, 7 years later, she still won't 'Friend' me)

So, the funny part happens a couple years later when I'm going through my Dads top dresser drawer. (I'm a kid at heart, and my Dad's top dresser drawer is still one of the coolest things ever to look through,,, knives, pocket watches, old-timey photos, belt buckles, a bolo tie, I even found a nudie mag in there once) So I'm rifling through his memorabilia, as I have since I was old enough to reach it, when I come across a familiar foil package of blue pills.

A few minutes later he comes into the room and I began harassing him about getting a little, when he cut me off. "Boy, I can't take that stuff! You know how it works? It opens up all your blood vessels, and it opened up some in my brain that I don't want open. It had me thinking crazy!"

I couldn't bear to tell my Dad about my own experiences as I rolled around on the floor laughing. But I so wanted to tell him how much we had in common. What father wouldn't beam with pride? Dad, I don't want you to feel like those dejected little league fathers,,, you should be able to die happy knowing your boy is indeed "just like you".

O Canada

2009-04-07T15:52:00.000-07:00

I've noticed quite a spike in my Canadian followers as of late and I would like to point out that this blog is not intended for their readership. I'm not anti-Canadian by any means, but be advised is no way, shape, or form designed for you Canuks. The stories here are almost entirely of non-hockey content, the jokes aren't of the dry, witty variety you are known to love, and I will not be publishing an adjacent page in French.

While I do appreciate any and all readers, (nothing tickles my fancy like a spike on my analytics page), please keep in mind all Canadian comments, while published, will be hereafter completely disregarded.

Oh, what's my problem with our 'Friendly Northern Neighbors' you ask? Nothing. I'm just of the mind that I should focus first on cleaning up my own backyard and that tall fences make for good neighbors. And frankly, I just don't trust them.

Bonjour eh!

Crystal Balls And Toothpaste Oreos

2009-04-01T21:23:00.000-07:00

My wife can read my my mind. Seriously. I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. Sure I tell a lot of "stories", but this isn't one of them.

She always knows when I'm about to call, often knows where I've been, who I was with, and how many beers I've had. One night we even played the "I'll think of a word.." game, with amazing accuracy she almost always knew what word I was saying over and over in my head. Scary right? As a person who has always taken certain creative liberties in telling stories, imagine how frustrated this necessity to be completely truthful makes me. That's just the tip of the iceberg... my wife is capable of some serious hocus pocus type shit.

Imagine living with someone who could 'Jedi Mind Trick' you at their will. We never argue. I never even get the chance to argue. Any time some serious discussion comes up I leave in a zombie-like "Yes Baby" trance.

So how in the world does she always walk in on me seconds after I fart? It's like a homing signal to her. You think a woman with heightened extrasensory perception would know to leave me alone for a few. Nope. I could be in the bedroom reading for hours, let one squeak out, and within seconds she's in the doorway holding her nose and making quite the disapproval face.

Speaking of disapproval faces, next time you get the chance, put on a pair of your lady's sweat pants. Wow. Can I just say I look amazing in her size 2 athletic wear? It's the new Porky Pig.

Hope you had an awesome April fools, and if you ate one of my trick cookies or fell for the herpes letters I sent you,,, better luck next year.

It's Time

2009-03-25T13:36:00.000-07:00

To break my silence. Why you ask? This just has to be shared.

I've just been really busy lately. Between working on new inventions, trying to organize my thoughts into writing a book, and singing Miley Cyrus at traffic lights... I'm just too drained to come home and blog.

What inventions you ask? Well how about the Snug-Wow! Thats right, Its like a Snuggie, but made from the amazing chamois of the Sham-Wow. Machine wash safe and perfect for week long depression enduced couch sessions. Just wipe those messy Dorito fingers on your sleeve. Passed out with your Pina-Colada in your lap? No worries the super suction of the Snug-Wow will soak that up in seconds. Talk about changing the game. Look for it on late night telivision.

My book? Yeah, in a nutshell I'm writing a "non-fiction" memoir detailing my eclectic child hood, insane family members, and dealing with the demonic elephant that lives in my head. Written maybe not as it happened, but exactly how I remember it.

As for singing at stop lights, it's always been a passion of mine.

I appreciate all the kind letters begging my return (2), thank you. I'm still here, still keeping it real. If you really want to help, how about pre-ordering my book? Sure it's technically not finished (or really started) but I think when it is, I'll have no problem getting it published. It should sell for about $19.95 but you can pre-buy now for only $15.00! And I'll autograph it!

Paypal accepted

How To Masturbate At Work

2008-12-10T11:37:00.000-08:00

I'm still lurking around the office a little. So technically, I'm not totally laid off. I think I'll keep showing up until they "fix the glitch" and stop paying me all together. I just don't have that much to do. My day has become an even more elaborate attempt to look busy than ever before.

It's not uncommon for me to hide out in Fonzie's office for a while,,, actually that's where I come up with some of my best ideas. Usually, I really am taking my time to "do work", but sometimes I just get caught up in an intense game of block buster. So, there I was contemplating what I would write about today when I came up with this alluring title. That's all I got so far. But it got you here, so I think I'm on to something.

I was thinking about doing some "research", but I think they would know something was up if I went back in there for another 20 minutes toting my laptop. I'll have to go on memory, imagination, and adrenaline. I was skimming my secret inbox folder, where I keep Timmy's emails, looking for some inspiration when I found this instead.

Yeah, I know, Amazing. But a little horrifying since I was expecting something totally different when I opened up "Judy Chop". My boner feels like it's been hit by tobacco ninja star.

Uplifting Unemployment Update #2

2008-12-08T11:10:00.000-08:00

Wow. I just want to say thanks to all you well wishers. The fan mail, cat themed cuteness, and little gems of joy that I found in my inbox this morning make it all worth while. It was like an electronic 'pick me up bouquet'. And to think, I was seriously considering jerking the wheel into oncoming traffic this morning as a I drove into the office.

I've really been enjoying the ol' World Wide Net lately. Until the cable guy comes and takes my box away I'm going to continue gently making love to the Innerweb for as long as I can. I've been finding some of the best stuff lately, like these guys, this photo blog, and this amazing time waster. Occasionally in my search for new awesome I will come across something that both scares and confuses me. As I did today. Can someone please try and explain this?

Oh well. I better get going. I have to finish up a few things here at the "Everything-Must-Go" Office, rush home and get my flair ready for another exciting night at Flingers. Don't worry, I promise not to 'jerk the wheel' or anything crazy. I'm far too lazy for that. But I wouldn't mind some getting caught in some kind of rare, unexplainable natural disaster. What are the chances of a comet falling out of the sky and crashing into the restaurant tonight? How awesome would that be? Not that I want to die or anything, but if I have to, I think that's how I want to go. "Killed by Fire Comet". Best epitaph ever.

Uplifting Unemployment Update #1

2008-12-04T10:50:00.000-08:00

The excessive drinking and weight gaining are coming right along. I've pretty much mastered shuffling around the house in my underwear and house shoes, staring at my Rubik's cube for hours, and talking to myself. Oh, and I almost forgot, I quit shaving. Pam refuses to kiss me or even getting close to my "symbol of defiance in the face of repressive and discriminatory economy". She's not really into politics.

I also started my new job bar tending at Flingers. It's no Chotchkie's. Tonight I plan on beginning my shift by disabling the blender.

As promised, more cute cats.

As If You Didn't Already Know

2008-11-24T09:06:00.000-08:00

I had a bitchin weekend

Be careful what you wish for. For months I have been spewing crap about "If I didn't have this job my life would be totally awesome"... well funny how things work out. I don't exactly have a job anymore.

So, Friday afternoon I fired up 'The Goose', rounded up my dudes, bounced a check at the booze store, and turned up the metal. I don't know if my head is ringing from a hangover or 48 hours of headbanging but it hurts. Whatever, it's officially "clean up your desk week", so I don't exactly need to be on the A game... I'm actually drinking now as I write this. And taking these NyQuil I found in my drawer.

Such a weird feeling. I mean this is what I wanted, right? It almost feels like I'm getting dumped. No, that's not quite it... It feels like my high school sweetheart is headed off to college in another state. I know better things await, but it still stings a little....

"I've been thinking about us a lot lately. And I feel like it just isn't fair to keep you waiting. I just don't want to deny you any of your freedom. This is such an important time in our lives, and I think we really need to experience it fully. Oh, and we can't sleep together anymore."

It's Not You, It's Me

2008-11-18T14:20:00.000-08:00

I've been so busy working on other projects* lately that I've completely neglected you. I'm sorry. I mean it.

To make it up to you I have added the following picture. everybody I know loves cats behaving cutely with funny quotes in bad cat grammar. Hilarious. So while I can't be %100 committed to you like I once was, don't worry, I'll be back. And in the meantime, I'll drop a few delicate morsels to savor too.

*ensuring that the world our children inherit will be home to pegasus, stardust, and wrist rockets.... as well as people

Don't Call It A Comeback

2008-11-12T08:38:00.000-08:00

Wow. I know, it's been a while. I had originally planned to leave some fun things behind to entertain you. Some canned ham that would hold you over until I got back. Maybe a story about "the Mayor", a few of my newest doodles, or something as simple as a link to my favorite dedication website ever.

Unfortunatley, the class I atteneded was so demoralizing that at the end of the day I was left with nothing. It felt like my creativity had a cold sore. I spent my free time after classes hiding in the darkenes of my room sipping beer through a straw.

Kickoff To A Great Week

2008-11-03T10:54:00.000-08:00

Had an amazing weekend of excess. Halloween candy by the fist full, beer shotgun races, and late season bike rides made this one for the record books. I always find myself staying up way to late on Sunday nights. I just want to milk as much weekend as I can before the sucking starts on Monday morning.

Arriving to work today I learned I have been selected to attend a licencing class for the majority of the week. Oh and next Monday too. Can't wait!

So, I thought I would give myself a little mid morning pick me up and check out the website of this band I have been listening to. So, I just type the band's name in the ol' address window... And, WAIT JUST A SECOND HERE! Fully expecting some images of long haired rockers banging their heads to some hot metal riffs, I was a little shocked to find a gay lifestyle publication under the same name. Now I have a "Gay. Sex. Life." publication on one screen, 100 pop-ups advertising gay porn on my other screen, and my boss is walking down the hall towards my office. "Hey! I need you to take a look at this fax." Ctrl Alt Delete! Ctrl Alt Delete! Ctrl Alt Deleting!

Thankfully that awkward conversation about my employment and sexuality was narrowly avoided. (Remember that time you got fired for cruising gay websites at work?) However, now our Bulgarian tech guy, the one who monitors our web whereabouts, has walked by my office about 15 times in the last hour giving me the strangest little smile.

toothbrushes in my bag = dog poo on your doorstep

2008-10-31T12:07:00.000-07:00

No work today. I rented this kid for the day and we're hitting every Halloween party this side of the Pecos. Apple bobbing, fortune telling, pumpkin carving and all the free candy I can eat. Then we're takin it to streets for some old school T-O-T!

After that P and I are dressing up like Grampires and hittin the town.

Note to Self

2008-10-29T12:01:00.000-07:00

My mind, like my life, is a cluttered mess.

Usually blog subject matter magically pops in my head. I'll be working on something else, come up with an idea, and 20 minutes later it's up on the innerweb. I just log-in, type furiously for a few minutes, and hit "publish". There isn't much to it. No proofreading for grammar, no punctuation correction, I usually forget to spell check until someone calls me out on it. This "think-type-post" format is especially convenient when I'm supposed to be "working". This way I can get Brand-New-Rad in front of your eyes quick and easy like. Hot off the press! However, if I'm out and about and come up with a real gem, it's usually lost forever. Whatever. I mean, there's more where that came from. Right?

I think I've been taking my "Well of Awesome" for granted lately. It just seems intellectually irresponsible to let all these great ideas go to waste. Especially in this economy! I think it's time to take a more conservative stance and fight squander.

So I've started taking notes when I'm away from the computer. I'm sure this is the answer to preserving my ideas. The problem is I don't take very good notes. Particularly when I've been drinking. Which, coincidentally, is when I take the most notes. It's more like slurring on paper. Usually these wind up as an illegible mess on a crumpled piece of paper in my pocket. Sometimes it's a drawing of something I thought would look funny. A poorly drawn picture of a chicken wearing a Celtics Jersey? Ahhh, just what I need to re-spark my brilliance so I can get down to creating that "F Yeah!" flavor you've come to love. This rarely happens.

These are some actual "notes" I found laying around. Scraps of paper that I thought, at one time, for whatever reason, would be excellent blog topics.

Donnie! Chicken Wings!; Why pit stains?; Strange Church invite; Trash Snackin - Pull from butt clown thing; Face Paint Lady "No Cuts"; Obama for SGA; And another thing; Kidney stone charm necklace; Not dry humping in shower; Workshop; I get it, you're cool; Full Squish; Vanishing Ass Slacks

If you have any idea what I was talking about, please contact me immediately. I would really like to make tomorrow's post a keeper.

Small Favor

2008-10-27T08:50:00.000-07:00

I need someone to punch my wife in the face. For science.

She's been complaining about knee pain all summer. It's gotten to the point where it's really affecting her lifestyle. She can't ride her bike, yoga is a pain, and our regular Tuesday night "Tarzan and Jane" sessions have been totally suspended. I don't really understand what she's feeling, so it's kind of hard to diagnose. That's the thing about knees, is it's a pretty weird pain. People analyze the same problem and then react totally different to it. I mean I think she's pretty tough, but I need to be sure.

So here's what I'm thinking. So, we'll all be hangin out and you just sucker punch her in the face. Not too hard, but hard. (If you knock her out we'll have no usable data.) I guess you should stay away from the nose too. It's a fine line, bloody OK / broken no good. A quick jab to the neck should work. While a punch in the neck hurts like hell, you're in no real danger of damaging that cute little face. Then we'll just see how she handles it. If she goes down crying, wailing and freaking out, I'll console her by letting her know her knees are going to be just fine. Now if she shakes it off and comes after you with that razor she keeps in her bra, you're on your own.

At least I'll know we need to have a doctor take a look that knee situation.

Do You Ever Wonder

2008-10-24T10:07:00.000-07:00

Do you ever wonder what parents whisper in their kids ears to make them be quiet? I think I am going to carry around nose pliers and threaten to pull their toenails off, if they don't...

-From SP, a new dad.

YKWYPI?com

2008-10-22T19:02:00.000-07:00

So I stormed out of the office and went straight home. I threw open the liquor cabinet and asked myself, "Now that I've 'given up', what should I start drinking?" I really wanted a Pina-Colada, but that just didn't seem right for this mission. So I got right on task and started looking for some cheap red wine. Unfortunately, we didn't have any in stock. We did, however, have a little of my second choice, Scotch. Scotch is such a great booze, it can sound classy or cheap depending on how you say it. Scotch. Only bad thing, I was down to just a couple gulps... I needed to top 'er off with something. I grabbed at the closest bottle and poured it straight in with the Scotch. Unfortunately, Malibu is not a very good companion to subtle nuances of a fine scotch whiskey. After my first swig, my stomach threw it in reverse onto my sweater. Whatever. Even better. I went outside, bottle in hand , and promptly wet my pants to complete the look.

It was a little colder than I thought. It was freezing, and the wind had picked up a little. You think wetting your pants and vomiting on yourself at home is uncomfortable, try doing it on a snowy night at 8,000 feet. I was only 15 minutes into "giving up" when I had to burn a Dr. Phil book for warmth. Hardly fulfilling. Then it took almost another 20 minutes for my first passer-by to even pass by, allowing me to yell "HEY! You know what your problem is?".

They didn't even look my way. I had to wait in the cold another half an our before anyone else came by. Finally a kid on a BMX bicycle rolled down my street. I didn't have any slush balls ready, but I did hit him with a "YKWYPI?" he gave me a "Huh?" and a pretty mean look. I was on the spot and all I could get out was "You're a notoriously poor tipper!" He gave me the dismissive look you would give any run-o-the-mill, book burning, vomit stained homeless person and pedaled away.

I felt even worse than before this whole project even started. I waddled back inside (frozen pee-jeans make it hard to walk) and collapsed on the couch. What am I going to do now? How could I face the both of you that read this? Then it hit me. youknowwhatyourproblemis.com I could just get drunk and insult strangers from the comfort of my "job". YES! You can't keep a good man down. Just like that, I'm back in action. Really? C'mon, it's that easy for us genius'. Hold on I better go register that. I've been kicking myself over the millions that eluded me with "doyouknowwhoyouremessingwith.com"

Mom, this one was kind of a joke. I would never risk hypothermia like that. I was at home last night, warm, dry, and bombed on Scotchy-Coladas in the safety of my home.

When It Rains

2008-10-22T08:54:00.000-07:00

I started doing this as a way to vent, express, and entertain myself. Sometimes that doesn't happen. Sometimes it feels like a homework assignment. I just haven't been feeling it, my head's totally out of the game. You deserve more, some panache, the best me I can give. There's nothing worse than sitting down to write something because you feel like you have to, and then cranking out the crap. It's like when my dad would give me the "Go on! Be funny for 'em", insisting I do my "ghetto cheerleader routine" for the neighbors one more time.

That ol' compilation effect,,, Seriously, life has been like an adult version of 'Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day'. An example? OK... let's say you were going on vacation to Milwaukee, (depressed yet?) and an hour before leaving your wife loses her job, and then you fall off your bike, knock yourself out, and smash your face up. Oh, and, yeah, that's your honeymoon. Well, you won't be going anywhere for a long-long time, because your peanut-paying job leaves you below poverty line, so for all practical purposes, that air mattress on your buddy's floor WAS your honeymoon suite.

So last night I decided to do something about it. It was time to take a stand against pessimistic forces and make some changes. Positivity happens NOW! I will become that optimistic force in my life and my upbeat momentum will reverse this downward spiral! I went to bed a few hours early.

Ready for a fresh, new, sunshiney day, I sprang out of bed and stubbed my toe. I limped over to the window threw back the shade and was greeted with grey skies, a few inches of slush and icy roads. Really? In October? And I just spend like $100 on a skimpy 'Sexy Garbage Man' Halloween costume.

I'm thinking about giving up on life. Don't be surprised when you see me on a street corner later this week. Drunk, in tattered rags, burning self-help books in a barrel to keep myself warm. I'll be that guy throwing slush balls at kids, talking to myself, and yelling, "You know what your problem is?" at all who pass by.

Old Folks Home

2008-10-14T09:23:00.000-07:00

Why are people who are into antiques generally so creepy? Most old people and I get along great, we're into a lot of the same things. Soft foods, game shows, sensible footwear,,, I'm down with all that. But as for the antique aficionados? I just don't get it. Maybe it's because I have a hard time telling the difference in "genuine antiques" and "old crap you keep around the house".

Recently Pam and I got stuck on a very thorough home tour of some elderly antique collectors. "Want to come in and see the house?" Turned into a 2 hour journey through time. Well, a journey thorough pink colored glass, painted serving platters, and cuckoo clocks.

The perfectly preserved daughters' bedrooms were kinda creepy. They may have left the house 20 years ago, but their old bedrooms were ready for them to return in pig-tails. It's like time stands still behind those bedroom doors. (That reminds me, I need to write about time machines... and where I'm going first if I ever get one. Maybe tomorrow. I still stand my decision that I would go back and totally take advantage of the advances that my middle school buddy's hot-n-slutty, heavy metal groupie, older sister made on me. I just didn't understand the signals at the time.)

So, after the Daughters' bedrooms we moved on to perpetual Christmas room. Scary. Why would you have a year-round room decorated like the North Pole? Christmas trees, ornaments, nutcrackers.... "Oh, I just love the Holidays." Translated in my brain as, "Oh, I just love giving you the willies!"

From there things only got more terrifying. Opening another door took us into the porcelain doll chamber. There lounging on a miniature chaise lounge, were about 4 large dolls. A few more were placed in little antique chairs, enjoying a tea party. 15 sets of piercing glass eyes stared up me. "I always prayed for a grand-daughter..." I looked over to see where Pam was... already backing out of the room giving me that "TIME TO GO" look. Are we in a horror movie? Are we going to wind up in those jars of canned food she has in the basement?

Walking through the next room our host stopped abruptly next to a crib. She turned and held one finger to her pursed lips and gave us a "Shhhhhhh. Isn't this just the most precious thing you've ever seen?" No. No, it wasn't. A black porcelain doll baby made to look like it's sleeping is absolutely NOT the most precious thing I have ever seen! I would have traded my heebie-jeebies for herpes at this point.

Pam stampeded me into the next room only to find our other host holding a pistol... a vast arsenal behind him in a display case. I should have been the one wearing depends.

I don't care if the Golden Girls themselves call me to do lunch next week, I'm done with old people for a while.

See You Later Alligator

2008-10-08T13:33:00.000-07:00

I was just trying to be a nice guy and do someone a favor. All they do is blow up on me. I mean, how ungrateful can you be? Whatever! "No good deed goes unpunished", that's what my Momma used to say.

I was totally just being a good friend when I made "Eddie" a Facebook page. I mean, you didn't have one, and that 14 year old you met at our party really wanted to keep in touch. You seemed pretty into it that night. You guys spent hours talking by the fire about everything from cheer try-outs to what's on your iPod.

I thought it was very mature of her to give you one of her cell phone charms. It was a pretty classy move on your part, noticing how she'd paid a visit to Big Sis's make-up bag and pretended NOT to notice her braces. I knew you felt like the night was cut short by her "buzzkill" dad dragging her home. (what a Cock Block!) With all that whiskey in you, it had to be hard to remember her Twitter. So that's why I got her email address for you. And started sending her emails. And pictures of you. And samples of your poetry. Well, samples of what I think your poetry would sound like.

Hey, hey, hey! Before you get all "Dude! I was just trying to be nice. She wouldn't leave me alone. She just followed me everywhere." Oh, she wanted it did she? Well for a grown ass man you seemed to know an awful lot about the Jonas Brothers / Miley Cyrus drama.

Now that I sit back and look at "your" Facebook, I'm kinda creeped out. It looks like a Bedazzler threw up at a Hello Kitty convention. I Just hope Chris Hanson doesn't find it. I would hate to see you on "Predator".

This is LAST time I try and play matchmaker. People are just so unappreciative.

After a while, pedophile!

Under Employeed

2008-10-07T10:30:00.001-07:00

If you don't know what I "do" for a living, it's probably best.

This may be the worst time in the history of ever to be a me. I was dropping off my boss's car to be worked on last week and found myself eavesdropping on two greasy mechanics as they discussed the economy. They both hit the floor when one said, "At least I'm not a _____!" (fill blank with whatever you think it is that I "do")

Return To Sender,,, A Federal Offense

2008-10-01T08:56:00.000-07:00

Is making a threat on a Federal Employee's life a crime? I know you can't even joke about killing the President, but what about Postal Workers? Are they under some kind of federal protection plan like the snow leopard? What if I'm only joking about roundhouse kicking one in the wind pipe?

I have heard many times that our Post Office is regarded as the second worst in the country. I have no proof this ranking is a fact, but I believe it. (Coincidentally, I have also heard many times that the adjacent Denny's Restaurant is the second busiest in the country. Unfortunately, I can't validate this either. For the sake of being fair, I accept it. )
The whole cast over there is something worthy of note. It's like the people that ran away to join the circus and were turned down. Most people have a real problem with the creepy lady who looks like she's made of wax. Not me. I don't mind her bald spot comb over, slow manner, or that she insists on wearing dirty latex gloves. She and I are cool.

My problem is with the passive-aggressive troll named after a cartoon character. After waiting in line for an hour or so, I cringe every time I am greeted by her high pitched, "How can I help you?" (The "you" comes out in an exaggerated "yoouuuuuuuu" that sounds just like nails on a chalkboard. No, it's worse than nails on a chalkboard. It sounds like Bitchy got rolled in sprinkles with a cherry on top.)

It took all I had not to dive over the counter today when she told me, "I'm really too busy to go back there and look for your package again. It's not my fault it was misdelivered." Yeah? Really? Well it's not my fault I had to Jujitsu Pinata your face!

So consider this a threat. Better yet, it's a promise. I'm gonna beat that ass. Some time, some where. Expect it when you least expect it! Yeah, remember the time you shuffled me to the back of the line because I used the pink form instead of the green? Rabbit Punch! How about the time you got all smart about stamps costing $0.42? Spine Kick! Package pick up will resume when you return from lunch? Eye Gouging and Choke Slamming resumes now! I'm not going to be satisfied until I've Indian Burned, Camel Clutched, and Charlie Horsed you into submission. Then I'll triumphantly sit on your chest typewritering you for good measure.

She Don't know who she's messing with! (whoyoumessingwith.com)

Now, for you smart kids out there.... "Who's the Post master?" "Sho Nuff!"

A Long Strange Trip To The Dark Side

2008-09-29T14:08:00.000-07:00

Somehow, in just one week, I was lucky enough to witness a wedding featuring Darth Vader as Ring Bearer, AND a hippy wedding complete with Grateful Dead cover band.

And I thought the Jews were having all the fun.

doyouknowwhoyouremessingwith.com?

2008-09-23T13:34:00.000-07:00

I'm sort of in the middle of a frivolous lawsuit. If you ever have the chance to be a part of something like this I highly recommend it. It's awesome. Every time they call to harass me, it's as much fun as a zipper bite on my wiener. To be truthful, it's not exactly a lawsuit. They just keep threatening me with one.

The best part, by far, is the goons they have call me on a regular basis. I have learned that these people calling me have no real idea of the events that actually took place. I use this to my advantage to mess with them whenever possible. So today Goon Guy calls and begins threatening me. I ask him some pretty basic questions about said event. To which he responds, "You don't know who your messing with."

"You're right. I have absolutely no idea who I am messing with. Am I supposed to know who I am messing with? Isn't that why you call from a blocked ID, so that I DON"T know who I am messing with? Who AM I messing with? Is there some way I can look it up? Maybe there should be a Google application where I can search what a badass you are and see that in the 4th grade you whipped some other kid's ass behind the tennis courts. Do you know who YOU'RE messing with? What's my 'don't mess with this guy' credit score?"

How awesome is the idea of whoyoumessinwith.com? Will somebody please make that? I don't even want any royalties or credit. Just make sure you get the facts straight about the time I gave that bully Nathan a black eye in the 7th grade. Or else!

Pretty Average Weekend

2008-09-22T08:36:00.000-07:00

We try to get outside as much as we can when the weather's this nice.

Brushing The Void

2008-09-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I just completely space out, wander off into the abyss. Occasionally it's an object that sends me into a trance... like my tongue. Stare at my tongue in a mirror far a few seconds and its like I fall into a K hole. I have no idea how much time has elapsed, what day it is, or who I am when I finally snap out of it.

Sometimes, I'll get a great debate in my head. I just have to hang out in La-La Land until I work it out. I'm a complete blank to the outside world. "Scratch and sniff, or puffy; which is the better sticker? Well that depends, is it peaches n' cream or skunk smelly? Do the puffy stickers have dinosaurs or googly eyes on them?"

Most commonly it's getting out of the shower. Every time I shower, I step out, grab my towel, and dry my hair first. Then I'll flip the towel around like a cape and start working it down from my shoulders. Then it happens. My head cocks a little down, to the left, and the lights go out in Georgia. I just stare off towards the trash can. I don't even think about anything, I just completely shut off. I have no idea how long this would last if I was left alone. Maybe a few seconds, maybe minutes, possibly hours. Usually Pam snaps me back to Earth with , "HEY! You're doing it again!"

Today it was something else that brought me crashing back to reality. There in the trash was my beloved toothbrush. Wait, what the? I didn't throw that away. Then I looked up at the sink and their next to my Mr. Floss figurine was a shiny brand new one. Wait a damn second here. I've only been married like a week and she's making the oral hygiene decisions of the household?

The bristles weren't even worn out. OK, I admit, after further review, they were indeed pretty abused and splayed out flat. But don't you think I would have, could have, made that choice myself? It's pretty personal. It goes in my mouth.

After digging it out of the trash, and pulling a soft ball sized clump of her hair from the bristles.... (Wait, I have to interject something else here. Everyday she brushes out enough hair to clog a toilet. I've inspected her scalp closely looking for signs of balding, but nothing. It makes absolutely no sense. Meanwhile my hairline retreats faster than French infantry. I've just stopped washing mine altogether hoping it will just mat into a uniform clump. Thus catching the runaways and leaving me with a natural looking full head of hair. Allowing me to jog, dance, and play water polo without worrying about male pattern baldness)

OK, where was I? So I thrust Brushy Brushy "my lucky toothbrush" in her face looking for a fight. "What's this all about?" "You obviously needed a new one." She calmly said this in the same tone she would use explaining the rules of petting our wiener dog to a retarded child. "Now, Now, Ronnie. We don't Squeeze her. You have to be gentle with Miss Pickles. Just give her a little tickle-touch on the belly."

I was all out of ammunition after that. Have I already become so helpless she has to do everything? We've been married a week and I've already a sitcom dad? I'm going to bathroom to check my bald spot's progress.

Grown-Up Thrown-Up,,, You Grow Up!

2008-09-17T08:46:00.000-07:00

What if we all grew up to be whatever it was we wanted to be when we were kids? I'd be a Truck Driver, Cowboy, or "Guy With a Sword" depending on what day you asked me.

The world would be pretty safe with all the Police, Firemen, Soldiers and Doctors. All married to princesses and ballerinas I guess. Heavy Equipment Operators and Builders would stay busy rolling out new castles, forts, igloos, and tree houses for the "like a million" babies they're going to have.

Luckily we'd have plenty of the jobs, like Teacher, that no one wants when they get old enough to care about money. Gas Station Attendant, Cable Guy, and Plumber all look like kick ass vocations when you're 5. Imagine a trash truck going by with 12 guys hanging off the back.

Trains, race cars, and fighter jets would make travel a breeze.

What about kids that want to be other stuff? I met one girl that wanted to be a black person. (She's currently Caucasian) A black person or a duck. My nephew wants to be a Tyrannosaurus. Thanks to our police-like state, he would most likely be gunned down after devouring Black Duck Girl.

I'm a little worried about Colorado's economy supporting 9,000 Baby Dolphin Veterinarians. Not to mention all those deadbeat Rainbow Chasers, Finger Painters, and Pony Petters.

Imagine what the kids of the "people who grew up to be what they wanted to be when they were kids" would be like. "Cake for dinner again? Seriously Mom? Hey Dad! Maybe when your done frolicking in the dandelions you could go out and earn a little money. I'm tired of getting my allowance paid in glitter, moon beams, and fairy kisses. Grow up!"

A Wife Is Not A Prop

2008-09-16T11:11:00.000-07:00

I can't believe how many of you Eager Beavers really thought I would be back in action yesterday. Lets just say, my family in town + the wedding + reception + a knife fight + exotic dancers + a police chase + exotic birds + an alcoholic lawyer who advertises on bus stops = a condition "not conducive to a positive work environment". I just needed a personal day to sorta decompress.

Everything went perfect last week Well, all but one minor detail. I was a little disappointed in that we didn't get to take the portraits I wanted. For years I've been thinking up (what I think are) hilarious yet touching alternatives to the same ol' wedding photos everyone gets. Amazing, and personalized memories we could capture on film and cherish forever...

Pam hitting a pinata in her wedding dress, with myself and a crowd of Mexicans cheering her on, spraying beer, swilling tequila, from our "Rancho Backyardo" reception.

Traditional "getting ready" pictures with me stuffing a handgun and straight razors into her dress while her Mother does her hair.

Maybe a Vegas casino backroom. Me being held by 4-5 thugs me getting my fingernails smacked with a hammer as Pam screams in horror.

Whatever, I'll have our baby portraits to ruin someday. Pam seems OK with the idea of "Baby's First Dice Game". Maybe she'll even go for a cock fight.

Two Down, One To Go

2008-09-08T11:21:00.000-07:00

I don't know if it's too late, but I think we should have a Jewish wedding. Jewish weddings rock hard. How awesome would that be? I can just hear my Dad trying to read all that Yiddish with his slow ass molasses accent. (Are you thinking about Morgan Freeman in a Yarmulke marrying us?) Maybe we'll just steal the part where we put our frail, elderly, grandparents in chairs and let drunk people dance around with them hoisted in the air. On second thought, I'm a little worried that breaking glasses would have a scary "wildfire" effect among some of our guests. So, we better leave that part out.

Going to Craiggers' wedding made me think about some of the fun times he and I have had together at weddings over the years. Oh Delaware,,, one of the greatest stories never to be told again. Cake, booze, cookies, shrimp, sparklers AND I got to "Electric Slide" with a 6'4" Tranny. Mazaltave!

If you can't have a Jewish wedding you should have me officiate it. I'm totally amazing. I guess there was just a little controversy over my word choice with some of my congregation. While making my introduction, I was allowed to speak on my personal feelings about the sanctity of marriage. Apparently "looming" isn't a real flattering way to describe your upcoming wedding. Whoops.

Usually I am "that guy" when it comes to over-doing it with appetizers and finger foods. Pam won't even walk through COSTCO with me as my "abuse of the privilege" can be a little embarrassing. I totally met my match last night. He was plowing through sushi before I could even get out of the drink line. Double fisting and double dipping, I watched him destroy half a tray of stuffed clams while I tried to play catch-up at the cheese table. When I finally made it over by the shrimp and oysters I caught a glimpse of him cornering the lamb-on-a-stick guy. He was 2 steps ahead of me all night.

Id forgotten all about him until the end of the evening. I was contemplating finishing the half-eaten desserts around my table when I wondered, "what would my new hero do?" Again he had bested me before I even got started. He, being a true pro, had gone straight to the source. I watched in awe as he devoured an entire layer of wedding cake.

I told you I write a lot of letters... Scroll down, you'll see what I mean.

It's Your Day

2008-09-04T10:17:00.001-07:00

I have three weddings to go to in less than a week. One being mine. Weird, I'm going to be married in a week. I guess I've been to busy to really let that sink in. It kinda hit me last night. I've been having the strangest dreams too. I wonder if it's my subconscious trying to tie up loose ends.

I'm actually performing the service in one of these weddings. How they selected me, I'm not quite sure. They wanted someone who would "keep it light" for them. In order to "keep it light", I'll be wearing a bunny costume, a latex garter belt, and a clown nose. "By the power of Greyskull, I now pronounce you,,, ". Should be a hit with the grandparents.

I now understand how brides on TV flip out. We thought we were real smart. Easy to plan a cheap wedding with no stress right? Wrong. Pam's head spun a complete 360 like the in Exorcist last night. Why does everyone think they are invited? Why do they think if they are invited they can bring their friends from out of town? Why do they think I care about their nut allergy?

"It's totally your day. Remember Teddy is a vegetarian, and she'll be there early because she has the kids that night. You'll need to have something for them to eat. I think fishsticks will be fine for the kids. It's your day, so whatever works for you." "I don't exactly recall inviting Teddy or her brat-ass kids. So I really don't care what they eat."

Rockin' Bob Awesome called today. Finished his new trailer, easily the best part of my day.

Sore Losers

2008-09-02T10:16:00.001-07:00

Depending on the day, I've felt like both the moose and the statue.

OK OK OK. Look. Gay dudes, please quit calling, emailing, skywriting me pointing out what errors I made in my list. My decisions are final.

Yes Miss Gia DID make me about 1,000 delicious breakfasts and she STILL reigns supreme as BG's First Lady of Drag. I also agree, nobody is more quotable than Ginger. "I'll do the things the other cheerleaders won't!" Sorry, but this isn't a "top 10". Leaving it at 5 just keeps it more prestigious...

Now if you'll please excuse me, there is a grown man twirling a baton outside my office window and I must go investigate.

My Top 5 Gay Dudes

2008-08-28T10:16:00.000-07:00

One time at the mall, Pam set me free to wander around unsupervised. She gave me clear instructions to meet her in half an hour at MAC. So an hour goes by, and after about 30 minutes of looking at ipods, she calls me. "Where are you?" "I'm here at the Apple Store waiting for you." "Well at least I know you're not gay. Come downstairs, I'll meet you in front of Pretzelrama."

While I'm definitely not gay, I have always been a friend of the gay. More than a friend, A fan. I'm completely captivated my them. The bigger the queen, the more mesmerized I become. I'll follow one around like a zombie just waiting for him to say something sassy, snap, or call some other dude "girlfriend".

To honor the joy these men have brought me over the years I would like to present my list, "Top 5 Gay Dudes" I have met.

#5. Doc. When I first met Doc he wasn't exactly "out". More like he had just cracked the closet door open a little. In a few short years he went from closeted, to out, to OUT! He was like Gay's prodigal son. I had hoped to end each of these with a quote from the respective Queen. However being that this is a family blog, I don't think I can use any of Doc's quotes. He can manipulate any conversation to reference some guy he blew in a club stairwell / Mardi Gras balcony / movie theater / porta-potty / train station / Chuck-E-Cheese parking lot / jail cell / dog park / opera / Greyhound Bus / bar mitzvah........

#4. WB. He claims to have spent a few years touring with Journey as their MC. I know, awesome. Sometimes, if we were lucky, if he had a few beers in him, we could get him to do his spiel. "Ladies and gentlemen of Detroit, put your cigarette lighters in the air. THIS,,, IS,,, Joooouuuuuurneeeeeeey!" My girlfriend and I spent a lot of time listening to his stories and drinking his booze. Our friendship kinda fizzled after one strange night. We were drinking beers at his place after work when he tried to touch my personals (the area covered by my bathing suit). As I was leaving, in an attempt to get me to stay, he said, "If it feels good, do it. If it doesn't, do it 'til it does."

#3. "Jack and "Joe". Why 2 guys in the third slot? Since they haven't officially announced that they're gay, I feel like they can share. They haven't even "unofficially" announced that they are gay. Technically, no one knows that they're gay. Even their girlfriends. How can I be so sure? Whenever a remotely gay subject comes up, "Jack" is the first in the room to throw up his arms and put on the big "that gives me the willies" act. Some Gay 101 subject matter will come up in conversation, and he feigns total ignorance and disgust. Occasionally, however,while telling me yet ANOTHER story about his cat, he'll slip up and drop a comment about "code night", twinks, or Destroyer Magazine (graduate level gay). I have about 1,000,000 examples for Joe, so I'll just give my favorite. A bunch of the guys were hanging out, having some beers, talking about chicks and monster trucks. When asked, "Whats the first thing you notice in a woman?" He replied, "Her shoes. I know if she's wearing Manolo Blahnik's or something, then she'll have good style."

#2. Jim. The self-proclaimed "Queen of the Night" isn't too much to look at. He looks just like you would imagine a backwoods, redneck, late night gas station manager would look like. Missing teeth, long scraggly hair, and some home-made tattoos. But when he opens his mouth to speak, instead of NASCAR, WWF, and Skoal spit, magic comes out. It's like a symphony of violins, dance music, and hobbit farts. Beer sales, legally, end at 2:00 AM sharp in KY. Jim understood that sometimes, a young man in college, needs refreshment well into the morning. Many times I was allowed into the back cooler, left with a case of Busch Light, and came back the next day to pay when it was legal for beer to show up on his register tape. "I got your beer, your gas, and your cigarettes. And that's $17.25."

#1. Jonathan. (pronounced Joe Nathan) was a co-worker of mine in Yellowstone one summer. He had these huge glasses and looked like the cartoon book-worm. He told some of the best stories I have ever heard. I spent many late nights, awestruck, on the back steps to our dorm drinking and listening to his wild tales. I didn't care that they all sounded too outlandish to be true. True or False, if you're going to tell a story, tell a STORY. Jonathan always came through in fine style. My girlfriend was often jealous when she would turn in for the night and leave me to enjoy "story time" until sunrise. (In hindsight I think she was worried about how forcefully he commanded my attention. Like he might someday summon his little robot to ride off into the sunset.) Being raised in a whore house, a Meth runner for the Hells Angels, to being a prostitute for the Olympic Committee,,, How could you not get totally wrapped up in that? I remember vividly his tale of being stranded at the countryside Mansion of one of his "benefactors". In his attempts to get home, he managed to drive an antique Rolls Royce into a lake. "I had been drinking, I don't drive, and I don't do antiques."

Honorable mention: Daniel, my very confused, possibly transgendered, Czech landlord. "Who vants scnitzel? I do! I do! He He."

Your Rainbow Connection

2008-08-27T13:45:00.000-07:00

I've been getting a lot of fan mail lately in response to my Hostile Rainbow Takeover. I wrote about it a few weeks ago, remember? Maybe if you just emailed me, instead of insisting on sending me handwritten letters,(scented with Britney Spears' Fantasy) I could have given a more timely response.

Someone has had the audacity to charge my Rainbow Takeover as an anti-gay movement. Well that is just preposterous. Me, Anti-Gay? Everyone that knows me knows I am a huge fan of all things gay. I've been to the Eagle, on Foam party night. I used play Short Stop for an all lesbian softball team. Hell, I even subscribe to Bear's Life magazine to keep up with grooming trends.

To show how much I am indeed NOT anti-gay, I have started working on a list of my personal "Top 5 Gay Dudes of All-Time".

This was supposed to be today's post. However, this has turned out to be quite difficult. I mean how do I choose? There's a lot of pressure to get this right. Can I use famous gays, or just homos I know? Do guys in tank-tops get preferential treatment? What about that guy that offered me a BJ in the Art's bathroom? (I declined, but I thought it very thoughtful of him to offer) So anyway, it's not finished.... Maybe tomorrow.

In the meantime, bad news.

Tuesday: See what happens when I don't get my Tacos?

2008-08-26T09:12:00.000-07:00

What's the big deal with breast milk? Why do people get so totally freaked out about it? Whatever, it's just come up in conversation a lot lately.

I like to ask new parents if they've tasted it. "Hi. Cute baby. Have you tried breast milk yet?"
In case you are wondering, this is not an effective way to make friends. Attempting to try a friend's, or that of a friend's wife, is coincidentally a great way to end a friendship. (Shawn, I swear I was just asking in the name of science. Jeeeze, sorry."

My Sister would get totally bent out of shape when I would joke like I was going to try hers. Not as upset as our Mother, nor the families seated near us at Olive Garden, but pretty heated. So much for that, "when you're here, you're family" crap.

She must make some awesome stuff. We should look into bottling it. Both of her kids are cute, smart, and grew like weeds. My Nephew still gropes her like they are at the Drive-In in his attempts to get some. Yes, Suzi, I do think that's a little odd for an 11 year old.

My friend DownBoner (who assured me 800 times he isn't some kinda pervert, just a curious dad) says it tastes like milk with sugar in it. That sounds pretty good. Babies are pretty finicky, and they seem to love it. I wonder if anybody has ever made cheese or something out of it. Anyway, I can't wait to try it.

See there I go getting totally side-tracked again. Today's plan was to write about how my Dad looks just like Morgan Freeman. Really, they could be almost be twins. Well, with the exception that Eazy Lee isn't black. That and he has a pointy white-guy nose. Besides those minor details, spittin' image. Not only does he Look just like him, they act alike too. I don't know what Morgan Freeman is like in real life, but you know how he always plays the same role in movies? That even keeled, dry humored, wise old guy that you just want to put in your pocket he's so cute... Well that's exactly how my Dad acts too. He could have done an awesome job in the new Batman.

You know on second thought, I think Big Lee would have totally sucked in Driving Miss Daisy.

Does anybody want to dress up and go to the Metaphysical Fair / Goddess Night Out with me? Maybe we can get our Auras photographed together.

google

2008-08-22T15:19:00.001-07:00

An old friend recently Googled my name. Before finding me, he found this guy. Strangely, we aren't even related.

Casual Friday

2008-08-22T09:05:00.000-07:00

I love telling people how smart I am. Smart is exactly how I felt waiting for Pam to come pick me up on the side of the road last night. Flatted, in the dark, no lights, and only an hour and a half late for our once-a-month special romantic dinner date.

It's getting dark early these days. Lil Radical an I got a little more adventure than we bargained for last night. Turning a 2 hour ride into a very long ride / hike / escapade.

Today has got me totally freaked out. Mike and Pam out of town. Timmy won't log into messenger. I've started talking to myself. The usual blogs aren't cutting it today. Maybe I'll just go back in the kitchen. Ham and cheese Croissant and Diet Dr Pepper. I think I'll draw a picture of a Killer Bee crossed with a butterfly... No a lightning bug. Think about a villain making those and then kids would run out into the summer night to catch lightning bugs and ARRGGGGGG KILLER BEE!!! Hey, hey, hey. Girl laying out under my window. My boss will want to see this. Call him in, confuse him with my cluttered desk. "See how busy I am?" Back to Kitchen.... hmmm coffee and JUST ONE Oreo dipped in peanut butter. Cruise all the secondary blogs, bike nerdy / artsy / Nike Dunks / funny stuff. Do you think anyone out there wants to give me a new Single Speed? Back to the kitchen to see if my Bibicaffe is cold. I'm so in love with you Bibicaffe, you understand me like no one else. I think I will write you a letter today and tell you how totally out of my mind I am for you. What errands can I run today? I need to take some beer to the bike shop. Where did I put that drawing of angry neckties? How would you go about making a hairdoll? Did they restock the candy bowl yet? I am pretty pumped on these peppermints that melt in your mouth. Wiener, you want to go out? Great, we can walk over to the skate shop too. Oh Wiener, you "Best Dog in the Whole World" you. The way you ran up to sunbathing girl was better than anything that dumb ol' Lassie ever did. Oh great, it's almost lunch time!

"Wait a minute... Wait a Minute..."

Boogers, Boner Blood, Balls on Bikes, and Bernie. A busy day at the office.

2008-08-20T10:04:00.000-07:00

I feel like a total hypocrite when I tell kids not to pick their nose. Is that what being an adult is all about?

So I was out yesterday, back to the Doctor. My innards are at it again. This whole summer has been, hands down, my most frustrating medical experience ever. I'm so pissed I can't relive it today without getting worked up. I'm ready to get a bottle of tequila and some power tools and start cutting things out... Now that you feel whipped into an ambulance chasing frenzy, I can't just let you down with nothing. I'll tell you about my second most frustrating medical condition.

Senior year in college I started waking up with blood in my underwear. Awesome. I've had embarrassing nocturnal emissions before (crowded bus in Mexico) but bleeding penis? So I truck on down to Student Health Services.

In SHS's opinion, everyone that comes in can only be there for one of two reasons. The flu or or gonorrhea. They quickly diagnosed I did not have the flu and put me in an examination room. After about forever, in comes Mrs. Doctor who proceeds to fondle me. Not fondle in a "Dear Penthouse, I never thought it would happen to me" way. She was playing the bad cop in this movie and went to "roughing up the suspect". "I'm just checking for any cuts or open sores that could cause the blood." I let her know I was pretty tight with my little guy, inspected him often, and would like her to take it easy with the Indian Burn. She leaves and comes back with some tools. "I'm going to test you for gonorrhea." "OK, sure, I'll give some blood. I'm pretty sure I can't have anything but let's check it out." No, no, I didn't give blood. Instead of a needle she turned around wielding an 8 inch wire q-tip. I clearly remember her letting loose with a maniacal, "Muah HaHaHa" laugh.

This, as you may have guessed, is awful. Not just awful, god awful. That is not a place you want to be scratched with a wire brush. I didn't come in with a burning sensation but I sure left with one. Peeing after this exam is like pissing hot lava. If I ever have a son, instead of giving him the "keep the snake in the cage" speech Mom gave me, I am giving him this test. As soon as he hits puberty, I'll take him to the free clinic and tell them I think he has The Clap. As he holds his wiener in defeat on the way home, I'll give him some rubbers and tell him to put one on now, and keep one on until death or marriage .

So a few sleepless nights go by, more bloody undies, and another doctor calls me. "We need you to come back in for another test. I'm afraid she didn't go deep enough to get a complete sample." I went back. I'm dumb.

My penis however, is pretty smart. He knew what was coming this time and tried his best to retreat. This did not however stop Doc from performing a "thorough" examination. Violated, I cupped my injured little guy as we had the following discussion. "Is bleeding a regular symptom?" "Not really." "Wouldn't I have had some type of other symptoms if I had an STD?" "Probably. I'll take some blood, run some other tests too." Great. I left with an appointment to come back for my results in 3 days.

For those 3 days I was sure I had every type of STD known to man. I couldn't sleep, I didn't eat, I hid in my room and avoided my long-distance girlfriend's calls. I was soiling my underoos almost nightly. I held my penis around the clock in fear he would fall off or, even worse, run away.

So I go back in a few days to get my results. This is where I began to question the difficulty of medical school. Doctor Bombay comes back in with my negative results and wants to do the SAME TEST AGAIN! He thinks he has narrowed my problem down to 2 possible causes. One being gonorrhea. (Did I mention I am showing absolutely, positively, NO SIGNS OF GONORRHEA?) "Whats the cure for gonorrhea?" "10 days antibiotic." "And the cure for the other thing?" "7 days of the same antibiotic." "Really! Are you kidding me? Then let's just say I have it! Gimme a 10 day script." I was neither polite nor thankful on my exit from the building. I believe I made mentions of "Crackerjack Medical Degrees", "quackery", and the guarantee of giving their daughter, wives, mothers, any STD I should ever catch.

A few weeks later, the night before a procedure to cure the problem, I was laying in bed with my girlfriend. She came to help with post-op and we had not seen each other in quite some time. We were enjoying each others company when I became aroused... Really aroused. I guess a couple month's of sex with the "Sears Catalogue" caught up with me and a fierce erection resulted. My nocturnal boners must not pack much punch, because they would only leave a small puddle of blood. This resulted into a blood fountain that covered my walls, bed, and girlfriend in a stream of blood. It was like front row at a GWAR show.

So, what was the bleeding? After 30 seconds with a real doctor, I learned that I had a cyst in my urinary tract. So when I would get a prolonged erection in my naughty little dreams, it would tear a little and leave a little surprise in my underwear. The roto-rooting student doctors were only making me bleed more.

Still here? My Daily cruise of bike nerd blogs lead me to this! (not for the squeamish) It looks as though Mike has been "Out Miked"! And then then the icing on the cake. Someone sends me another one of Mike's passions... A real live Weekend at Bernie's! He was walking on sunshine this morning when he called me to tell me about the Juggalo he met in the men's room of the airport. I hope it doesn't totally ruin his day.

rough horseing

2008-08-18T12:58:00.000-07:00

In response to the masterpiece I posted on Friday...

I cannot thank you enough for the bright ray of light into my life that is your artwork. After reading the title of the piece, (Still Life With Action: A painting inspired by a film inspired by the lives of Gus and Melissa) I was hesitant to get my hopes as high as such a title would promise, but when I laid eyes upon this magnificence, I was rewarded with everything I had dreamed... and more. Never has there been such a profoundly moving depiction of the legend of the H.M.S. Melissa that so accurately captures the earth-shaking action, the awe-inspiring heroism, the buoyant drama of hope fulfilled, and the raw power of a chainsaw-wielding bulldog. A brilliant composition, indeed.

Your most grateful benefactors, Melissa & Gus

I don't want anyone to think I have just been clowning around around over here. That's completely ridiculous. Actually, it's the other way around. This whole blogging side project is a by-product of shirking. So in fact, as I type this, I am slacking-off right now.

Other things I have been busy with? Well, for one. Interviewing family members for their recollections of all the times my sister Suzi tried to kill me. These interviews continue to take up a considerable amount of time, as they are lengthy and plentiful. While emotionally painful to re-live, I feel they may lead to inspiring my magnum opus.

Thanks to an adverse reaction to some Budweiser and Tequilla, I managed to perfect a new offense guarenteed to "Turn Off Your Fiancee". Look for that list to be a "top 10" REAL soon.

2008-08-15T13:06:00.000-07:00

This just in!

2008-08-14T09:12:00.000-07:00

It's already been a pretty big day for news. First
someone sends me footage of a real live Chupacabra. Then just when I thought things couldn't any better, I get the Waffle House Wedding Gallery!

I don't know if I'm just a little extra emotional because of my own upcoming wedding, but it brought a tear to my eye.

How great is today going to be?

Dazed in...

2008-08-13T10:50:00.000-07:00

So today in my inbox, I get this mass email from an old friend. He just got back from a long trip and wanted to share some of the funnier happenings while rubbing it our faces that he was just in Europe. As guy who has been a bit of a mass emailer in the past, I'm always pumped to read whatever he sends. Not only does it keep me from doing actual "work", he's usually hilarious.

I started reading "Dazed in Rome..." and something came over me. It feels different. Why is he sending me this? Why now? He's pretty damn funny. Maybe he's thinking about quitting his job and being a writer of some sort too. Maybe his mass emails are just his way of testing the waters. He has sent me two of these in the last month. Who has time to compose two long, funny, and well planned mass emails? I'll tell you. Someone who has already drafted their "two week's" and is just hangin' out on the company dime until they get it together to quit and be a better writer than me. What if he IS funnier than me? What if we send a mass email or blog on the same day? We can't really expect all of our mutual friends to read both. I mean, how much time do you people waste at work?

So I tear into re-reading it. It's not that funny. OK, wait, I probably missed something. I'm just being critical and competitive. I mean, he can't really quit his job and get published before I do. Right? So I read it again. I chuckle out loud once or twice. I guess that's pretty good. Way more fun than the contract I was supposed to be reading. For a nanosecond I feel like I've won the funny-off. I'm a good friend. Naturally, I'm going to RE: him and tell him to "keep his job", or "write on the side", "it's a nice hobby".

About to hit "send" and I totally freak out. Now I'm totally nervous and sweating. What do most people say after reading my mass emails/ blogs/ poems on bathroom stalls?
Phone rings at work and I let it go to voicemail. I am way to busy going through my "Yahoo Drafts" folder to find a mass email from my last trip to Europe. After reading it 6 times, I send it to Pam and instant message her. "I'm funny right? You're not just saying that?" "Didn't you already make me read this one?" Whatever. She's spoiled, she gets to live with my comedic genius. I bet if I ate Pizza off boobs everyday it would eventually become "whatever" too.
Fine, Mike knows funny, I'll send it to Mike. Hit send and instantly message him. "Read it yet?" "I'm kinda busy Butthole." "What? How in the hell are you too busy? We spent all morning using Microsoft Paint to deface pictures of each other and messaging about transsexuals and existentialism! How can you suddenly be too busy to read something awesome?" "Sorry Mr. Sensitive. I'm Making art."

Hating myself, I decided it was time for lunch. I was just zoning out in front of the microwave watching a frozen burrito cook, drinking a Diet Coke, while talking on my wireless headset.
My Mom and I used to joke about wanting to commit suicide by jumping out the window, but being scared of heights. I would fling myself out my first floor window into her azalea bushes 3 feet below. Then I would run back in the house and do it again and again while she laughed hysterically and tried to reprimand me between breaths. (I know, I know, I know. What kind of a sicko jokes about suicide with his mom? After what we went through together, we earned the right to make fun of it) I snapped out of my daze wondering if my subconscious is trying to kill me in some really slow way.

Finding your voice

2008-08-11T14:11:00.000-07:00

I've been reading a lot of "guys guys" writing lately. You know the "I'm a bigger jerk than you", stuff that's pretty popular these days. Not exactly Hemingway. Mostly it makes me realize that some of the events I've lived through are actually pretty remarkable. I'm tempted to start writing my "best" stories about wilder times, change the names, and pray my angel of a fiancee never, ever, reads them. I guess that's problem #1. This weekend was my bachelor party, and while I still can't hold my head up straight, it was like a church revival compared to the good ol' days. She knows some of the bad, but not all of it. Sure, she was a bartender at the bar I owned for years, witnessing mild debauchery and hearing some stories. But, for the most part, I had already changed my ways, zipped my pants, and grown up by the time we met.

Problem # 2, I'm sworn to secrecy in too many of my best stories. No friend wants you to start telling stories about the time you rescued him out the back of a third world whorehouse from crazed, gun wielding pimp. I wonder how long the pact SS and I made to keep our international adventures (AKA; "The Greatest Stories Never Told") private is supposed to last. I could write a whole book strictly about him. "Your Friend is an Asshole", would be a good title.

Problem # 3, Where to start? I can't even remember some of the best ones. Occasionally I'll get into a conversation and someone will say something that sparks something I forgot all about. It's literally like they just returned a book to the library in my brain. I'll get so excited about remembering my story that I'll immediately begin telling it. It usually doesn't occur to me that you may not be finished with your sentence or even want to hear my stupid story.

Maybe I should just start with all the stories beginning with, "This one time I almost died...." That should keep me busy for a while.

Low lifes drinkin' High Life

2008-08-08T09:08:00.000-07:00

I'm full of culture. Being such a socialite with refined tastes, it's only natural I wound up invited to a wine auction and dinner. In hindsight, sneaking off to do tequila shots with the bar staff between courses and wine pairings may not have been the best idea. I feel like a dollar in nickles.

Tonight I am double dating to a dance festival presentation with the Fitzies. I am prepared for this to be the best thing I have EVER seen. Not the dancing, I could care less about the dancing. I'll be watching Fitzy . How and why he has tickets I don't know and I don't care. It's going to be awesome just watching him interact, mingle, and appreciate the finer things. Maybe I should explain who Fitzy is. He's not exactly the dance festival type. What comes to mind when you think "bouncer"? If it's Swayze a-la Roadhouse, complete with nun-chucks, please stop reading this, leave, and never come back to my blog. How about imagining the last bouncer you saw open a door with some one's face. Now shave his head, add some neck tattoos , a dash of sparkling personality and wit, and top it off with a Boston accent thicker than CarTalk.

I'm a little scared, he thinks this will be our kick-off for another "Fitzy Friday". I haven't recovered from my last FF experience 6 months ago. I don't remember much, but what I do remember isn't pretty. Blackout drunk, kidnapped, I woke up in a garage. Somehow I escaped only to wander around in a snowstorm wearing a t-shirt. At 4am I was rolling around in a ditch wet, shivering, and covered in my own vomit. By divine inspiration I found my way to Tons-O-Fun's house, broke in, and slept on his kitchen floor. Pam sure was proud of her man when she came to get me the next day.

Speaking of proud Pams, it's Bachelor Party Weekend! I didn't want to go to Vegas with every other Chad, Doug, and Teddy so the boys planned something a little more my style. It's a bachelor party fit for a 15 year old. Water park, skateboardin', bike ridin', and hot rod go-karts. We even got a real fancy dinner planned. After that I hear we're going to some other kind of "dance festival", but I don't have all the details just yet.

The end of the rainbow?

2008-08-07T10:04:00.000-07:00

Heading up to BC in the pouring rain I was sure Wednesday Night Worlds (thanks Mike) were going to be cancelled. But no lightning, no foul, so we raced. I'm glad, it turned out to be pretty fun. Fun in a masochistic, bikegeek, nothing better to do way, but fun. Attempted to warm up by doing laps and dodging Texans in the parking garage. Went a little crazy with the hot sauce on my legs, and managed to get it all over my face and dangerously close to my boys. Soaking wet and heart rate pinned from go, I tried as hard as I could to turn myself inside out. I lost my glasses after lap one and rode the last two by braille, pinballing off trees and wet roots. Somehow, I managed to disturb a bee hive and got my ass stung a few times before I could get far enough down the trail. By lap three I was so deep in the cave I swear I could actually SEE a polar bear tearing my "spirit animal" penguins limb from limb. I know that in our world penguins and polar bears live in different hemispheres, but this is what happens in the depths of my oxygen starved brain. However, I bet if you did put the two together, you would find that polar bears do indeed find penguins delicious.

So, cruising on lap 3, the clouds part, and what do I see? That's right, a rainbow! It had to be a sign. At the after party I was trying hard to convince Big Mark and The Perv to get on board with the mission. They weren't having any part of it. In a matter of seconds Mark came up with a waaaaayyy better slogan for leaving rainbows alone than I have come up with in a solid week of trying to find a catchphrase for stealing them. Oh well.

And onto the best part of the day. I was just emailed a link to a picture of myself from last night. You can tell I am deep in concentration, as my tongue is sticking out so far it's in danger of being tangled in my spokes.

Hostile Rainbow Takeover

2008-08-04T12:12:00.000-07:00

It was a pretty hectic weekend with the Dutch here. A few too many micheladas, one scorching hot road ride, saw some sights, drank a little moonshine, a few too many beers, nearly being crushed by a runaway truck tire, another long ride over the pass, a few more sites, sausages and ice cream at the farmers market, and the Batman Movie. That, combined with an especially soul crushing Monday, left me in no condition to write. Tuesday kinda got away from me too,,, Oh well. I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to my reader. Sorry Mom.

I thought I had more to say.

I was tempted to write something Monday about one friend's act of corporate defiance. Suffering through Conference Call Monday he decided that his urgency to make #2, combined with his hate for the company, justified going in an office trashcan. Mature? No. Amazing? Yes! The photos he sent afterward were not only disgusting, but liberating. Being that my office is far upwind from his, this was almost the best part of Monday.

I Guess the best part of the day was beating a 12 year old in a game of S-K-A-T-E, despite all my shortcomings. (see photo) As for my tongue, I was trying reeaaalllllly hard!

You may have noticed that I added a new-and-improved rainbow flag complete with skull and crossbones. The unicorn just wasn't accomplishing what we're going for here, so we're trying this.

I get to come off the bench tonight, just in time for the last local bike race of the season. They are "pretty sure" my spleen is going to be OK. Being out a little out of shape, having not ridden seriously for a few weeks, I had to take special care in preparation for tonight's return to racing. By "prepare" I mean going out in the Village for Tons-O-Fun's birthday and having a few beers. I feel great.

Rainbow Warriors

2008-08-01T11:44:00.000-07:00

Last night, finishing up a ride, Mike and I were treated to a beautiful rainbow display. We were just kind of hanging out admiring the beauty when it came to us. Rainbows are awesome! It was then and there that we decided, we're takin em back. To celebrate our decision, we took about 100 pictures of ourselves doing the manliest poses possible. Well, the manliest poses possible in spandex.

I was so proud of myself when I got home I just had to tell Pam all about "Takin em Back '08". She informed me that, while uncertain of what Mike and I were representing, she was pretty sure WE never had them in the first place. Fine. Even more manly. I'll put the "man" back in Manifest Destiny and just take rainbows!

Unfortunately, after further review, the pictures failed to capture exactly what we're striving for. Sure they're good, even Macho, but for this we're going to need something fantastic. Mucho Macho. That's when I started working on our new logo. It's just a rough draft but it's a start. What represents our unbridled spirit better than a wild unicorn stallion galloping across the galaxy ? Look closely and you'll notice his flowing moustache and belt-o-beers. You know, the more I think about it, this logo may be kinda off the mark too.

Bob got the Job! Pumped to be stoked! If you need someone to verbally go down on you for a reference, I'm available.

It's going to be a busy weekend, friends in from Holland, skate contest, rainbow gathering. Keep it on the awesome!

Small Wonder

2008-07-31T09:21:00.000-07:00

I've always been bad about taking in strays. Need a place to live,? Sure, my couch is open, come on over. Been fired from every job in the valley? I think I have some shifts available. Can't get a cell phone because your credit score is a negative number? I'll just put you on my family plan.

My first stray ever was Nick. He was this stoner kid who got kicked out of his house after high school graduation. He lived underneath my family for just about a year in our swingin basement bachelor pad. Nick was finally asked to leave because Mom was tired of the house smelling like the best of the 70's. Anyways,,, while he lived with us he would spend 2 hours a day watching Magnum P.I. Everyday. He was totally obsessed with it. You couldn't get him to do anything if it conflicted with his Ferrari and moustache time. He would hardly risk running back to his room for another bong rip during a commercial if it meant missing one precious second. Oh, and f you were foolish enough to make the mistake of asking him about why he loved it so much. He would go on for hours about how Magnum, TC, Rick, and Higgins were what being friends is all about. "Dude, those guys were just BOYS man." Touching.

I have no idea where I am going with this. I was going to start with one thing, bring it on home another way, and now I'm lost. I should make a Top 5 Strays list. That's a good project for another day. I think I was going to rant about people and "Their Shows". I guess there's a project for another day too. What even got me started on that in the 1st place? Because someone sent me this. I forgot how good TV could be.

This is Bob.
"Rockin Bob
Awesome" was the best part of my day yesterday. Bob stopped by my office on his way to a real "grown-up" job interview. Bob is the genius behind "Art for Art's Sake" and all my old ads from the bar. After being 25 for 8 years he has decided it is time to get something new going. I'm proud of, I mean stoked for, you Bob. You're super talented and I know you'll go far. Of course, I'll be a sparkling reference for you when they call. He also wanted to show me his new tattoo. Yeah, that's a crow saying "Ka-Kaw". You may also notice Bob is wearing his nicest flat brim on the way to his interview. Yep, we're grown-ups.

How to turn off your Fiancee

2008-07-30T08:27:00.000-07:00

Just to help all yalls out, here is my personal list of Pam's top 5 turn-offs. Ordered by offensiveness, least to most. I hope this in some way can help you. Or maybe you can just send me your No-No's and I'll have some new material to try around the house.

5. Impressions. Impressions of any kind are sure to turn her off instantaneously. She may tolerate a little Caddy Shack quoting with the boys, but don't push it. I guarantee she isn't into it. I personally think talking like Uncle Jerry is hilarious. Don't know Uncle Jerry? He's a sexually confused, middle aged black man. He kinda looks and acts like a drunk California Raisin. I think it's even funnier to do in bed. I must think it's hilarious to be deprived of intimacy, because I just can't help myself sometimes. "Did good."

4. Dry Humping. Why I feel compelled to dry hump every time she bends over I don't know. Again, this is something beyond my control. It makes me giggle like no other. Bending over to get in dishwasher, brushing her teeth, on the phone with her mom,,, instinct just takes over and I go to town.

3. Ball Handling. I don't mean like MJ. Another mystery of manhood, why must I always have a hand down my pants? Unconsciously my hand migrates its way there whenever it's free. It's a manly thing to do. If you're not holding a tool, a beer, or a hand gun, you should be holding your boys. Some kids have nightmares about the Boogey Man, Chupacabra, or the Tooth Fairy. I think someone evil must have told me about the Wiener Thief at a young age and I'm still a little scared. By the way, touching your Fiancee with "ball hands", after they have been in your pants, is a sure fire way to make matters worse.

2.Farting. While most guys think farts are one of those magic things that can make any situation funnier, (like roller skates and dogs in sunglasses) Fiancees disagree. No fart is cool with them. No, not even the ones that make a real funny noise without stinking. I can be alone for hours, fart, and within a nanosecond she's behind me with a disgusted look on her face. How I can be riding my bike into a crosswind, her 50 yards behind me, fart and have her smell it is beyond me. Does she have Spidey Senses? Farting in bed is cardinal sin #1. Oh, and if the smell of your nocturnal fart awakens her, be prepared to suffer the same consequences as you would for an intentional fart in bed. Don't' even think about the "dutch oven" unless you are interested in being castrated in your sleep.

1. Porky Piggin'. What? Seriously, you don't know what "Porky Piggin' it" is? I, of course, think this is the funniest thing, of all time, ever. It works best if you wear a T shirt that is just a little to small. Now go stand in front of the mirror and take off your pants. Underwear too if you are that type. Isn't it awesome? Now dance around a little. It just gets better and better. Just saying it out loud makes me laugh. I think she may have thought it was funny, and even a little cute, the first time. Even the first 10 times. But now that I feel compelled to do this every time I have had more than 1 beer, in front of company, relatives, and strangers.... I think it's lost it's appeal.

Does this bike make my butt look fat?

2008-07-29T14:06:00.000-07:00

How Wiener and I roll to work.

Today just never got on track. I was late waking up. Didn't have time for coffee so I forgot my headphones for the ride to work. My socks don't match, you can't hit on all cylinders with black socks and brown slacks. Wiener threw up in my office. THEN Taco Tuesday gets cancelled! How can you cancel Taco Tuesday? What next, you going to cancel Hawaiian Shirt Casual Friday? You might as well just rip out what little bit of my soul is left.

I was kind of busy today. Not busy busy, but busy. I had a nice mid-day distraction of working up a fake resume. My never ending quest for free stuff occasionally requires odd tasks. Yeah, I guess I wasn't that busy. I did manage to find time to draw a couple funny pictures, work a sudoku, and run some errands. I was just to busy for you. Working up the ridiculous resume was almost the best part of my day, but then someone sent me this.

A spot of bother

2008-07-28T08:16:00.000-07:00

This weekend I had the pleasure of participating in a charity, just-for-fun, century ride. There were a lot of people there ready to play Tour Day France. I got raced. I got raced a lot. Women in Aero-bars really like to race me. Most even give a look back, just to let me know I have just been dropped, as they drink from their handlebar-mounted triathlon sippycup. Middle aged men with power-tap wattage meters, full carbon bikes and pot bellies also like to race me. An older gentleman on a beautiful vintage Derosa sat in behind Pam for a long stretch of road. After miles in our slipstream he put in an impressive attack 100 meters out from an aid station. I'm not sure if he was racing us the whole time, or just happy with the view. She did have her shortyshortshorts on.

I have been in a few of these rides in the past and I always thought it was more fun to pass people. I have some canine-like chase instinct that inspires me to go after whatever carrot dangles in front of me. An obese man in a polka dotted KOM jersey? A mother of 2 on a full suspension, flat pedal, mountain bike? A tandem riding couple in matching kit? No matter the situation, my natural response is attack.

I have been terribly wrong. Hanging in the back and doing my best Phil Liggit commentary as each one, "touch and go" passed me "dancing in the pedals" with a "suitcase of courage" as I had "come to grief", was way more fun.

In other news. After viewing the latest thing Mike sent me, puddingfarts, I am even more concerned with his Internet whereabouts. I'm pretty sure it's a seedy truck stop bathroom, on a lonely stretch of information superhighway, complete with glory hole. Or maybe a Bulgarian inner-city underpass where young men in cutoffs and midriff bearing T's peddle the most disturbing URLs around and let you touch it for $1.

And one more thing! Am I way off the back on this? When I first heard the title to this video, I was sure it was some other nauseating, ghastly filth perpetrated by the kind of people you can only pay in meth. In actually it is Officially the best part of my day. I think Riskay might just save the music industry.

figured out video

2008-07-25T17:00:00.000-07:00

Gotta have yer Diptet

2008-07-25T09:52:00.000-07:00

The Internet super-highway can take you anywhere. I think my friend Mike likes to take it to the intersection of the Information MLK and Colfax. Where else would someone find cakefarts?

I need to figure out how to add video to this thing. I Have so much to love to share and I just don't know how to get it on here.

For instance, this video saves my sanity at least 3 times a week.

Hopefully today we will start narrowing down my health issues. Going back in today to have another CT scan and go over my newest blood tests. This whole thing is just weird and I am ready for it to be over. Being kinda sick is pretty annoying, it's not like I'm really sick. I still look and feel totally healthy. I'm pretty sure we have it narrowed down to Mono, CMV, Catscrach Fever, Whooping Cough, Gout, ADD, Hep C, Kawasaki Syndrome, Sickle Cell, Epizudic, Plague, Laryngitis, Internal Leisions and Pigeon Toes.

The good news is my Hematocrit levels are high enough to raise UCI suspicion even at the Tour de France level. So Tons-O-fun may have some traction if he tries to bring his doping case against me to fruition.

Special Delivery

2008-07-24T11:24:00.000-07:00

Got this in the mail yesterday.

Thanks, I almost forgot.

Like Mother Like Daughter

2008-07-23T11:02:00.000-07:00

According to this woman, I'm a dumbass. That, among many other colorful things she called me, is up for debate. I'm not the one that bought my 16 year old daughter a Land Rover the day she got her licence. How can you be surprised when she rolls it, 30 yards off the road, less than 24 hours later? She was yelling something about this being a dog's fault. I hope the off-the-leash mongrel was ticketed. That's a $60,000 vehicle! By no means was this the fault of an inexperienced driver speeding down a gravel forest service road. A gravel road that gives 2 busy neighborhoods forest access to hiking, biking, and dog walking. You can just see the little muffin-topped princess on the left. As we pedaled away daughter chimed in with her own barrage of insults. Oh, that damn Noblesse Oblige.

The best part of my day, thus far, comes as a story from the road. Mike is driving cross country. Not for fun, nor in his own vehicle. Mike gets to drive 25 hours because his employer has decided to shut down offices across the country. His employer has also decided that for Mike to keep his job they would like him, sans CDL, to drive a 20,000 pound box-truck to California. A truck with no radio and a governor that limits his speed to 55. To keep his sanity Mike has been enjoying the various skate spots he finds along the way. Waking up in scenic Wendover, where Mormons become JackMormons, he though he would have a quick sesh before hitting the road. He was just finishing up when he spotted something charging him from across the parking lot. Something being a security guard, of undetermined sexual orientation, brandishing a tazer gun. I guess in this casino parking lot, skating is a serious offense. Even at 10 a.m. Mike, being understanding, took this opportunity to skate large circles around the chubby guard chanting "Don't Taze me Bro!" I guess it's tiny little legs churned furiously in an attempt to catch and taze Mike before he skated away. I guess Pat thought "Today is the day! Finally, I get to taze someone."

It only took him 6 phone calls through spotty cell reception, yelling over the engine, to tell me that story. Oh so worth it. I only wish it had been captured on film. That and I kinda wish he got tazed a little. Just a little tiny bit.

It's town race night again... I'm still benched due to a bio-mechanical, but I will be heading up there to cowbell for Pam and witness the social awkwardness that is our bikegeek scene.
I feel like Cru Jones when they told him he couldn't race Helltrack in his own back yard. My spleen doesn't feel swollen. I know it's just the local series. "Training Races" as they say. I'm having a pretty good year as results go, and having more fun than ever beating people that take Town Series way to seriously. Whatever, Mountain States Cup race in 2 weeks... live to fight another day. Besides tonight will probably get rained out and rescheduled anyway

Speaking of Rad. Pam and I are still planning on reenacting "Send me an Angel" at our reception. Assuming my spleen is OK with it.

Unsafe at any speed

2008-07-22T10:03:00.000-07:00

A friend sent me this "Art's R.I.P. / potential Heineken Ad" photo this morning. It is now, officially, the best part of my day.

Commuting by bike is usually the best part of my day, and for a great number of reasons. Mostly because, odd as it may sound, I really like riding my bike. I know, weird, my riding to work has nothing to do with the cost of gas. I am, however, often rewarded with some pretty amazing sights.

Sure commuting by bike has it's annoyances. Like the woman I encountered the other day at a stoplight. She may have been busy smoking and talking on her cell phone, but was still kind enough to point out that my headphones are a dangerous distraction. I am also perplexed by the amazing effort that must go into having the sprinklers water the bike path. I'm not quite sure why we need our bike path watered so thoroughly around 9:00 a.m., but apparently it's pretty important.

The commuting craze is getting out of hand here in the happy valley. It's the hottest thing going. People here are really green, and they want you to know it. If you show up to the Free Trade coffee shop on your ridiculous cruiser NOT wearing an organic hemp T that profits the community it was sewn in,,, you might as well grow a Hitler 'stache. I'm exaggerating, but just a little.

Have you ever been in a crowded bar around playoffs? I enjoy watching strangers drawn together because they have chosen to cheer for the same team. All barriers are suddenly broken down. Race, sexual orientation, socio-economic backgrounds, the right jersey and a little face paint has the power to bring people together. Now a lot of bikegeek commuter types aren't what you would assume to be the "team" type. This is until they see a fellow commuter. United by the success of the Green Team, other commuters love to go out of their way to say "Go, Fight Win" in their own way. Even if this means putting their own safety in jeopardy. I get plenty of waves, right-ons, and air high-fives from one-handed, unbalanced riders. I'm not looking away to be rude, it's just that I expect them to be flattened by a car at any moment, and I can't take that before work.

Apparently scooters are awesome for commuting. I'm surprised there isn't a scooter store right in the village. It also appears you need no previous experience to legally navigate one of these down busy roads. The scoommuters, may extinct themselves before this fully catches on.

Now that I'm on a rant, does "Green Building" kinda piss anybody else off? I'm not so sold on how developing vacant land and building a new house is the answer to our environmental problems. I just hope those green garages have plenty of room for your shiny new hybrid SUV.

I think tomorrow I'm going to paint my face green for my ride to work. I need some help working on a fight song as I am finding very little that rhymes with "Fight, fight, fight our dependence on foreign oil"!

Blogs are like a$$holes

2008-07-21T14:08:00.000-07:00

Everybody has one.

This guy is refinishing my sister's bathtub. This may just be the best thing that happened to me today.

You can't force it, but sometimes you have to remind yourself of that. I think the hamster in my head has been running overtime because he really is trying to tell me something. I know I need to find a creative outlet for everything that happens in there. Apparently my previous measures aren't cutting it.

So what have I been doing for a creative outlet? Besides some pretty boring blogging, a few unfinished short stories, and a half cooked business plan,,, not much. I have, however, been talking quite a bit of joy in my letter writing campaign. It's more like a bizarre postcard writing campaign that involves collages, drawing robots, and asking for free stuff.

Looking out the window it looks as if tonight's skateboard practice is going to be cancelled as well as race course pre-ride.